


equinox

by mixians



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1708109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixians/pseuds/mixians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>joonmyun has always wanted to go on an adventure. he just never expected it to happen quite like this. written for criticalcapture @ lj</p>
            </blockquote>





	equinox

**PROLOGUE**

The Queen of Saira stoops down next to her son, watching him play with letter blocks scattered around the floor. Almost apprehensively, she turns a long, heavy box over and over in her hands.

"Joonmyun-ah," she calls, beaming when her son turns to blink at her with bright, round eyes. She takes his wrist in one hand, and pinches the fabric of the small glove he wears with the other. "Do you know why you have these?"

Joonmyun blinks. "No."

Of course he doesn’t know. He’s just a child, barely eight years old. He _shouldn’t_ know. But it’s her job to tell him, just as the King’s mother had told him when he was eight, and his grandmother to his father before that, and so on.

The Queen takes a deep breath and begins, "A long time ago, one of your ancestors made a Faerie very angry."

"How long ago?" Joonmyun asks, fiddling with one of his gloves. His mother gently pulls his hands away from each other, before he can pull one glove off. "Before Papa was born?"

"Before that."

"Before Grandpa was born?"

"Long before that," the Queen chuckles. "Hundreds and hundreds of years ago. And that Faerie was so angry that she put a curse on this whole family, so that every child born to it would have to marry the first person to hold his hand. And this," she says, tapping the box in her hands with one finger, "is the pair of gloves that has been passed down from the beginning. Your Papa wore these, and so did his papa, and his papa’s papa… And one day, so will you."

Joonmyun frowns. He doesn’t seem to understand, but the Queen is glad for that—he doesn’t need to, not yet. "Why can’t I wear them now?"

"Your hands are too small," says the Queen fondly, opening the box to show him the long, white gloves. They’re almost longer than his arms are. "But you will wear them one day."

"I want to wear them _now_ ," Joonmyun complains, reaching out for the box and pouting.

His mother closes the box and sets it behind her. "Not yet," she chides, "but soon. But remember, you must keep your gloves on, always. You know that, right?"

"I know, Mama," Joonmyun grins obediently. There are little gaps in his smile where his baby teeth have fallen out. "I’ll always keep my gloves on, unless you say so."

"Good," she says, standing up again and picking up the box as she goes. "Your tutor will be here in a minute. Pay attention today! No fooling around like last time, all right? And don’t take your gloves off!"

"Okay," Joonmyun says. He’s still playing with his gloves. "I promise."

♚

**PART ONE**

Joonmyun fidgets in place, tugging at the worn, white fabric of his gloves as he waits for the guard to come to his door. He’s going out today, in _public._ Alone, kind of. It’s something he’s wanted to do for a long time, sure, but he’s worried, too, that something might happen—that’s why he’s not usually allowed out of the palace. Everyone’s afraid he’ll do something stupid like take his gloves off and spontaneously grab someone’s hand, or something like that. And he’s a little offended that they think he’d do something like that, after everything they’ve told him, but he can’t guarantee he won’t do that anyways.

Sometimes he really resents that one ancestor of his that’d pissed off that Faerie all those years ago. Having a curse like _this_ placed on his entire lineage was a little extreme for making the Faerie the victim of a few childish pranks—that was what the books said, at least—but Joonmyun really wishes he hadn’t done it, if only because he wants to have the same freedom that everyone else does. He wants to go out and wander the markets like they do, learn to dance the way they do, maybe hold hands with his date just like they do—but that’s a luxury that they have, and he doesn’t.

A knock sounds on the door. "Are you ready?" calls a voice—it’s Yifan, his guard.

"Ready," he says. Yifan leads him down the hall, through winding passages Joonmyun’s been through only a few times, and then the sun is shining in his eyes, the breeze ruffles his hair a little, and they’re _there_ —they’re outside, and Joonmyun’s breath catches in his throat. It’s even better than he remembers it. The air smells so fresh, so sweet, so unlike the stuffy air inside the palace, which never stops smelling like dust even when Joonmyun has the servants open all the windows. Nothing beats this. Being outside.

"Where do you want to go, Your Highness?" asks Yifan, and Joonmyun considers it for a moment. He practically had to _beg_ to have permission to do this, and he’s pretty sure he won’t have another opportunity like this for a while. Every moment counts.

"The market," he says finally. Yifan gives a curt nod and leads him through the streets in what Joonmyun assumes must be the direction of the market.

It’s slow going, especially because Joonmyun stops every now and again to stare at things on the street in awe, walking slow enough to rival a tortoise, but Yifan just watches Joonmyun’s amazement with amusement. Maybe a little bit of pity, too, but Joonmyun understands.

Those that see them passing stop in their tracks—is that the _Prince_? In the streets? Outside of the palace?—and bow again and again. Joonmyun smiles and bows back, but he wishes, a little bit, that he could be treated just like any other person. Spend a day like a normal person.

The market is loud and crowded in the heat of the afternoon, at the busiest hour of the day. The crowd parts neatly, though, as Joonmyun passes through and goes from stall to stall, buying fruits and cheap trinkets he’s never seen before. ("Peasants’ toys," he’s sure his mother will say later. "Throw them away." But for now, in the moment, he’s happy he has them.) Every time he holds out a few coins for a shopkeeper to take, he has to remember to hold them out by the tips of his fingers for them to take with great care. No one dares touch the Prince’s hands.

By the time he’s gotten to the end of the street, to the very last stall, the sun is already sinking low in the sky, and the heat has made his bangs stick to his face with the thin sheen of sweat that seems to cover him from head to toe. Not very princely, but Joonmyun doesn’t really mind.

"We’re due back at the palace any minute now, Your Highness," Yifan says anxiously. He’s been opening and closing his pocket watch every other minute for the last half hour. "The King and Queen will be upset if we’re late."

"Okay," Joonmyun says, sighing and looking back at the market one more time. He'll miss this: the lively atmosphere, the smell of baking bread from the stall on his left, even the way the heat makes his clothes stick to his skin—they'd never allow this in the palace. The luxuries of freedom. "Let's go."

So they turn back the way they came, wading through thick crowds of well-wishers, smiling and waving and bowing. And in an instant, Joonmyun manages to trip over something—maybe a person, or maybe just his own feet—and he feels something tug just barely at his fingertips, feels his glove somehow slip free, and then—skin. On his skin. His _hand. Someone is holding his hand._

The crowd has fallen deathly silent. The hand pulls him upright and Joonmyun looks up to see a bright-eyed boy with a cheerful smile on his face, like he has no idea what he's just done. What he's just condemned himself (and Joonmyun) to for the rest of both of their lives. Beside him, Yifan is frozen in shock.

"Hello," Joonmyun says after a long, long moment. "I’m Kim Joonmyun. Prince of the Kingdom of Saira."

"O-oh," the boy says, giving him a hurried bow and another bright smile, "I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, Your Highness. My name is Jongdae. Kim Jongdae."

"Where are you from, Jongdae?"

"A few kingdoms over," Jongdae says. No wonder he’s so clueless. "It’s so different here! I didn’t know princes went to the market in other kingdoms. Or that they could be so handsome."

Joonmyun laughs a little at Jongdae’s cheeky grin and opens his mouth to say something else, but Yifan chooses this moment to snap out of whatever trance he was in and step in.

"If it’s all right with you, we’ll be needing you to come back to the palace with us."

Jongdae frowns. "Well, I kind of need to go home, but—"

"I was just being polite," Yifan interrupts, taking him by the arm as Joonmyun starts to make his way back to the palace, pushing through the still-shocked crowd. "You don’t really have a choice."

"Oh, okay," Jongdae says. "Does this mean I’ve been, like, chosen or something?"

"In a sense," Joonmyun says, smiling tightly. His shoulders are tense and he feels like pacing back and forth the way he does when he’s nervous, even though he’s already walking, and he’d say it’s because he’s getting engaged—oh _god_ , he’s getting engaged—to a stranger, but it’s not even that. The way his head feels right now, it’s like he’s still stuck in a dream somewhere, mind numb and moving far too slowly. Like he’s spent too long breathing in the fumes from the energy elixirs his father loves so much.

"I’ve always wanted to visit a palace, you know," Jongdae says, breaking the silence that’s settled over them as if he doesn’t even realize that there’s something wrong. He’s practically the picture of naïvety; Joonmyun wishes he wouldn’t have to be the one to tell Jongdae what’s in store for him. "We don’t have a lot of money, back home, so it’s not like I ever could have gone to those fancy balls they hold at our palace. But maybe I could go to one here, right? And maaaybe I could take the prince as my date…"

"That’s the plan," Joonmyun mutters. He’s really only half-listening, though—he’s not even sure how he’s been leading the way, but it’s like he’s on autopilot. His feet know where to take him.

"Wait, seriously?" Jongdae says, laughing incredulously. "No way."

"Yes," Joonmyun says. "You’ll see."

When they arrive at the palace, Joonmyun turns to Yifan. "Yifan. Tell Mother and Father what’s happened. And have a servant prepare a room."

Yifan nods and hurries away. Jongdae gives him a bewildered look. "A room? Your Highness, am I staying here for the night?"

"I’m afraid it might be more than a night," Joonmyun tells him, not quite meeting his eyes. "And—I think—you won’t need to call me ‘Your Highness’ anymore."

"What, a few days? Why?"

"More than a few days. More than a few months, even."

"Did I do something?" Jongdae frowns. They’re still by the entrance to the palace, and already servants are scurrying about with clean sheets and towels and bedclothes. "What’s going on?"

"So—" Joonmyun starts, but he’s not quite sure how to break it to him. "You know how you grabbed my hand earlier?"

"Yeah, I was helping you up. What about it?"

"Basically, that means… we’re engaged. To be married."

There’s a long moment of silence.

"You’re kidding me."

Joonmyun just shakes his head. "I’m really not."

Another long pause. Then: "WHAT DO YOU _MEAN_ WE’RE ENGAGED?"

"So—so there was this curse, right—" Joonmyun laughs nervously. "And it said the first person to hold my hand has to marry me, so when you took my hand…"

"Oh my god," Jongdae says. "Why didn’t anyone tell me this when I got here?"

"I don’t know, but I’ll fix this," Joonmyun says. "For both of us. But for now, you should probably get settled. You’re going to be here for a while."

They walk to Jongdae’s new room in silence. Joonmyun tries to explain the basic etiquette Jongdae needs to know, and when a few servants come in to furnish the room more comfortably, Jongdae offers to help, insisting on it even when they refuse. The servants look confused and a bit harried, so Joonmyun tries to interject with a "Jongdae, you really don’t have to—"

"But I want to," Jongdae says, turning back to look at him with furrowed brows, and for a moment it’s so very clear just _how_ new he is to this, and Joonmyun feels a little guilty. Even if there’s nothing he can really do about it.

"Jongdae," he says slowly, "you can’t. Maybe it seems like a small thing to make a fuss about, but you need to get used to it. This is how things work here. It’s not your place anymore. Do you understand?"

The servants start shuffling around again, rearranging furniture in the uncomfortable silence. Finally, Jongdae nods. "Yeah. I get it."

Joonmyun tries to get back to talking about manners again, but Jongdae is unnaturally reserved in his responses now, and the room is relatively quiet until Yifan knocks on the door.

"The King and Queen wish to see you," he says. "Both of you."

Jongdae looks nervous. Joonmyun gives him his most reassuring smile—though he’s already anxious himself—and says, "Don’t worry. It’ll be fine."

But, despite all of Joonmyun’s advice earlier, the meeting with his parents doesn’t go very well. It’s not bad, exactly, at first, until his mother speaks directly to Jongdae.

"Where do you come from?" she asks, looking down at him sternly. Jongdae doesn’t seem to notice her demeanor, just smiling at her easily.

"Astra, Your Majesty. A few kingdoms over."

"And why did you come here?"

Jongdae gives her the same cheeky grin he’d given Joonmyun earlier. Joonmyun wants to reach out and stop him from saying whatever he’s about to tell her, but Jongdae has already opened his mouth to speak. "Because I heard the prince was very handsome, of course. Your Majesty."

Joonmyun’s father frowns. His mother only looks down at Jongdae coldly. "Jokes will not win you my favor. Jongdae, was it? I hope you understand that this isn’t the time."

"Y-yes, Your Majesty," Jongdae responds quickly, giving an apologetic bow. "I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, Your Majesty."

But as the questioning continues, there are times when Jongdae forgets his place once again, forgets to address the Queen the way he should, or bows at exactly the wrong times, and Joonmyun is itching to just run from the room. It’s embarrassing. He should’ve taught Jongdae better.

As they leave the room, Jongdae mumbles, "I’m sorry."

"There’s nothing to be sorry for," Joonmyun says, but his voice comes out too strained, his throat is too tight with frustration, and suddenly he’s aware of how tense he is, shoulders stiff and his fists balled up into fists.

"I know you don’t mean that," Jongdae says. "I’m sorry. It was my fault." His voice is quiet, like it was after Joonmyun tried to explain why he couldn’t help the servants, or for the rest of the questioning after the Queen had told him not to speak so casually—and Joonmyun feels so awful, like he’s crushed Jongdae’s spirit or something.

"No," Joonmyun blurts, too loud and too sudden. He doesn’t even know what he’s thinking right now; the words tumble out of his mouth unbidden. "It was my fault, for not making it clearer to you, for not telling it to you in a nicer way, for being so _awful_ —I should have known how to handle this better. Someone like me shouldn’t be allowed to rule. I crush the hopes and dreams of foreign boys I accidentally force into marriage and bring them to my parents to have their dreams crushed even more and don’t even know how to apologize properly for it. I don’t deserve to be prince. I’m probably the worst prince there ever was, and I probably shouldn’t even be king when I get older, because I’m such a mess—"

He’s cut off by the sound of a laugh, bright and lovely and also frighteningly loud when it echoes off the walls of the hall. When Joonmyun turns around, Jongdae is giving him an amused grin, laughing again as he says, "Why are you so serious? Don’t worry so much about me. I’m fine, seriously."

"But you—" Joonmyun splutters, "you were so quiet and, well, you looked so sad. And I thought I’d crushed your spirit or something like that, and I guess it upset me to think about it like that because I like your spirit? Does that even make sense? I just think it’s—it’s refreshing. You. Having you here."

Jongdae looks surprised, but he smiles even wider all the same. "Aw, thanks. I’m glad you like me, at least. Since we have to spend the rest of our lives together and all."

"Yeah," Joonmyun says. "Yeah, I guess we do."

♚

Dinner is just the two of them—Joonmyun doesn't usually dine with his parents. Jongdae doesn't know what order to use the silverware in and when he's not asking which fork he's supposed to use next, he doesn't talk much. There's a heaviness in the air that Joonmyun doesn't like, and the quiet leaves him to his own thoughts; It feels like the full weight of what's happening is startle to dawn on them both. They're getting married. _Married._ He's too young for this. It's far too early for this to happen to him. He hasn't seen the world yet, hasn't had an adventure, hasn't fallen in love—

"Dinner was really good," Jongdae says quietly, breaking the silence. His plate is empty. "Thank you."

"Of course," Joonmyun says. "I'll walk you back to your room."

Jongdae's room is just down the hall from Joonmyun's, and not too far from the dining room. Joonmyun leads the way back, and he can't help but wonder at Jongdae's silence; he'd been so chatty on the way to the palace, but now… it's almost like he's a different person. Joonmyun doesn't like it, no matter what Jongdae says.

He does speak up, though, halfway up a flight of stairs, looking thoughtful. "I'll be here for a while, won't I?"

"Most likely," Joonmyun admits. He can't get his mind off of any of this. How to fix it.

"I guess I could get used to this place, then. Everything I never had," Jongdae says, smiling faintly. "Does this mean we'll be together a lot?"

"Yeah," Joonmyun says absentmindedly, "we will."

"So let's get to know each other. Make the best of things, right?"

"Sure." Joonmyun's got an idea. They've reached Jongdae's room, and Joonmyun _should_ continue the same way he's been going, but— "Tomorrow, though, okay?"

"Oh, okay." Jongdae looks a little disappointed, but Joonmyun's already hurrying off in the opposite direction, mind racing.

The palace library is spacious and, if it’s even possible, quieter than anywhere else in the palace; it’s Joonmyun’s place of refuge in the palace when things get to be too much. It’s easy to lose himself deep in the shelves of the library, within the pages of the books all around him, and he’s learned a lot this way, about people and other places and most of all, history. So many of the old, leather-bound books that line the shelves cover the centuries upon centuries of history this kingdom has, and there’s something endlessly fascinating about old customs and petty fights between his ancestors that can keep Joonmyun absorbed in a book for hours. There’s just one thing he can hardly find any information on, though—the most interesting, and the most important, Joonmyun thinks. The curse.

But suddenly, it matters now, knowing about it. If only Joonmyun had taken note of which books mentioned it, even in passing—he’d be pretty grateful for that right about now. But he has to start somewhere.

Joonmyun pulls a book off the shelf in front of him: _A History of Saira_. This one isn't particularly interesting, but if Joonmyun's remembering correctly, there's _something_ useful in there. He just needs to find it. And this mess… He'll fix it. No matter what it takes.

♚

**PART TWO**

"We have announced your betrothal to Kim Jongdae, a noble from the kingdom of Astra," the Queen says. She sounds as exhausted as Joonmyun feels. "And we said the… incident, I’ll call it, was planned. A more interesting way of announcing it."

"But Jongdae isn’t a noble, Mother," Joonmyun frowns. "What if someone finds out?"

"It would be better to take a chance than admit that you are marrying a _peasant_ ," she says scathingly, narrowing her eyes. "They would never respect either of you if they knew."

"Your mother is right," the King says. "There is not much else we can do. We can only hope the people trust us enough not to question it."

"The ceremony is set for the first of August," the Queen adds. "That’s just over three months from now, so we hope you can prepare Jongdae well in that time."

Three months doesn’t feel like enough, but Joonmyun nods anyways. "Of course."

"You are dismissed." Before Joonmyun leaves, though, his mother speaks up once more. "And Joonmyun—I hope you and your fiancée will get along well. You know we want you to be happy."

Joonmyun nods, looking back over his shoulder. "I don’t plan on letting this happen, but thank you, Mother. I’ll try."

It’s back to the library once he’s left the room, back to reading book after ancient book until his eyes are tired and he’s ready to fall asleep, mind full of stories of wars and magical creatures and brave knights whose actions he’ll never be able to match; just not what he’s been looking for. He’s been through an entire shelf of history books in the last week, and he’s just about ready to give up.

Joonmyun’s eyes start to drift closed, his eyelids feeling impossibly heavy, and he’s really about to fall asleep this time when someone’s foot nudges his.

"Hey," Jongdae says quietly. "I was looking for you."

Joonmyun pulls himself up so he’s sitting straight again, like a prince should, and rubs his eyes. "Why, is something wrong?"

"No, I just thought—" Jongdae’s not looking at Joonmyun now, but he’s biting his lip uncertainly and he plays with the hem of his new shirt, tailored for him a few days ago. Joonmyun might say he looks almost… shy. "I thought, since we’re betrothed and all, we’d be spending some time together. To get to know each other, like I mentioned."

"Of course," Joonmyun says. "Just not today. I know I said we could, but—"

"You're busy, I get it," Jongdae says. "Maybe tomorrow, then. I'll leave you alone for now. Good night."

"Good night," Joonmyun calls after him as he leaves the room, but Jongdae doesn’t even look back. Leaning backwards in his chair again, Joonmyun tries to get back to reading, but somehow he can’t do anything but wonder what he did wrong.

♚

The next day, he decides, is a break. To make amends.

He heads to Jongdae’s room bright and early the next morning, knocking on the door a few times every couple of minutes until Jongdae opens it, hair sticking up in strange places and his pajamas all rumpled as he squints at Joonmyun through sleepy eyes.

"What," Jongdae says, voice thick with sleep.

"I’m here to give you a tour of the palace," Joonmyun says cheerfully, opening the door wider and walking past Jongdae into the room. He pulls the curtains open and takes a seat on Jongdae’s bed; Jongdae shuts the door and moves to sit next to him, using one hand to shield his eyes from the light.

"It’s six in the morning," Jongdae mutters, trying to bury his face in his hands. "Why is _anyone_ awake right now. Besides, I thought you were too busy curse-breaking or whatever for me. You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"But I do," Joonmyun insists. "There are some places I've been wanting to show you. And we can go to the stables."

Jongdae, although still sleepy, seems to perk up a little at that. "The stables?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I used to help out in my uncle’s a lot," Jongdae explains. A little smile plays at the corners of his lips as he buttons up his shirt, and his eyes seem distant. Like he's remembering something far, far away from here, outside this room and this palace and this kingdom. "But I’ve never ridden a horse before."

"Then I’ll have to teach you.” Joonmyun tosses Jongdae a pair of pants and his shoes. "It won’t do for the new Prince of Saira not to know how to ride a horse, right?"

"Right," Jongdae mumbles, putting on the rest of his clothes slowly, eyes downcast. Joonmyun regrets saying it already. "Prince of Saira, Kim Jongdae."

"It must be—hard," Joonmyun says, taking a moment to settle on that last word, for lack of a better one. "I'm sorry."

Jongdae is silent for a while. They step out into the hall, and Joonmyun listens to the heels of their expensive shoes clicking against tile, and the echo of it as they pass through the main foyer; it's only when they've passed through another of the main halls that he speaks. "It wasn't your fault."

Joonmyun shakes his head. They keep walking. "It was. In part, at the very least." Jongdae looks like he wants to say something, but they’ve reached the spot Joonmyun’s been looking for. "To your right. We’re here."

"What do you mean?" Jongdae says, looking around. They’re still in the middle of a hall, and to their right is a blank expanse of wall. There’s nothing to distinguish it from any other spot in this hallway, but after years and years of living here, and scarcely ever leaving, Joonmyun’s got this place memorized like the back of his hand.

Wordlessly, Joonmyun steps up closer to the wall and presses a spot to his left, pushing and pushing until the wall gives and what used to be seamless wall is now a door, swinging into a dark stairway. Behind him, Jongdae looks stunned.

"I found it when I was a child. It takes you to the kitchens, in case you ever get hungry," Joonmyun explains, stepping into the passageway. Jongdae follows him in, not hesitating for a moment, but the way he’s trying to search for something in the dark says that maybe he’s at least a little bit apprehensive. Joonmyun reaches out behind him, searching for Jongdae in the dark. "Take my hand. I’ll bring a lantern next time, but we should be okay in the dark. We’re only going down one flight of stairs."

"It won't be that bad," Jongdae says, voice steady, and the way he says it is so easy, confident. But the way he grips Joonmyun’s hand tight after they've taken a few steps down says something entirely different.

It’s slow going in the dark. Joonmyun lets one hand drag along the rough stone wall to keep him steady and takes careful steps down the staircase, making sure Jongdae is never more than a step behind. It’s another ten minutes before they reach the bottom, and Joonmyun opens the door for them, flooding the stairwell with light.

Jongdae squints, putting one hand up to shield his eyes from the light, but his grip on Joonmyun’s hand has relaxed. "Where are we?"

"If you go down the hall and then turn left—you’ll know it, anyway, by the smell—you’ll be in the kitchen," Joonmyun explains, pointing. "Just ask the cook, Taeyeon, for anything you need, and she’ll be happy to give it to you. She’s very nice! And if you turn this way," he continues, moving to his right, "the stables are just outside. It’s a long way down the hall, but we’re going to that door down at the end."

It’s been a while since Joonmyun’s been here. The door is heavier than he remembers, and Jongdae has to help him pull it open when they reach it. Joonmyun mumbles an embarrassed "thanks" and leads the both of them down past a few stalls to the fifth one on the left—Joonmyun’s horse.

"Her name’s Socks," Joonmyun says, patting her head fondly when she sticks it out of the stall, looking at him and Jongdae curiously. She snorts when Jongdae reaches for her, too, and he takes a step back in surprise before a smile starts to spread across his face. He's looking happier, more at home, already. "Her ancestors have been in the family for centuries. I got her when I was younger and they let me name her myself, so… I thought it was cute. Because she has dark fur, except for the areas right around her hooves."

Jongdae gives a little laugh. "It _is_ cute. And I think I like her—she’s got personality."

"She’s a little… difficult sometimes, yes," Joonmyun says. "She doesn’t like new people. The first time a stable hand tried to touch her, she kicked him so hard he nearly cried. And that was when she was _small_."

"Does that mean I won’t be learning on her?" Jongdae asks. He gives Socks an exaggerated pout. "Aw. I wanted to spend some time with her. We could be friends."

Joonmyun watches him make silly faces at her as he approaches, gentle and slow. Joonmyun never knew to do that when he was younger—he'd just bounded up to her the moment she was led to him, and it took him ages after that to get her to warm up to him. Even the new stable hands sometimes approach too quickly and frighten her, but Jongdae, he… He seems so comfortable, even when all he's doing is taking cautious steps towards Socks, murmuring things to her so softly Joonmyun can barely hear half of what he's saying.

When Jongdae has gotten close enough to give her neck a soft pat, he looks up, back at Joonmyun. His brows furrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Joonmyun feels his face heat up a little, and he stutters, "I—I just. Thought it was interesting. You look so at ease with her, you know? Natural."

"Like I said, I used to help out in my uncle's stables. He taught me everything," Jongdae reminisces. "Manners. How to groom them. How to clean up after them. And I guess I can imagine how I'd ride a horse, too, after watching everyone else do it so much—they always said I was too small for it, so I never learned."

"I don't think you're too small," Joonmyun says. "I'll teach you. And you can come down here and visit Socks any time you want, you know. I think she likes you already."

"It's because animals love me," Jongdae says, looking pleased. "Just you watch, we'll be best friends by the end of the week."

Joonmyun leads him over to another stall, grinning too despite himself. "For now, you’ll have to work with May over here. She’s very sweet, trust me."

And May does take a liking to Jongdae from the moment they step into her stall, letting Jongdae approach without any trouble, just like Socks, and she lets Jongdae stroke her mane and coo at her endlessly. Animals really must like him a lot after all.

Jongdae leads May out of the stables with a practiced, steady hand; Joonmyun shows him the way to the track, leading Socks as well. They stop just outside the track so Joonmyun can show Jongdae how to mount his horse, demonstrating first on Socks and doing his best to explain until, finally, Jongdae gets it, grinning triumphantly when he’s perched on May’s back with the excitement of a child.

From there, it’s easy going—Jongdae's already got a good idea of what to do, so Joonmyun doesn’t need to give him too much instruction for him to get it. He's still a little shaky by the time an hour has passed, but he’s also sweaty and breathless and he looks satisfied, so Joonmyun decides to call it a success.

"Can we do this again?" Jongdae asks, excited and eager as they head back to the stables. "I had a lot of fun today."

"Soon, maybe," Joonmyun says hesitantly, thinking of all the books he still has to read. "You can ask an attendant to stay with you when I’m busy."

Jongdae frowns as he dismounts, stumbling a bit when his feet hit the ground. He’ll need to work on that. "What are you so busy with anyways? You spend so much time in the library. I never see you—is reading that important?"

"I’m trying to find a solution," Joonmyun explains. He dismounts and shows Jongdae what to do, talking all the while. "To the marriage thing. I’m going through all of the history books, so maybe I can find something that can help us. I don’t want you to be stuck here forever, you know? You didn’t choose to be here. And I don’t know much yet, but I’m learning things. Slowly. Maybe when I get through a few more books I’ll have enough to piece together _something_ about this curse. I barely know anything right now."

"I can help if you want," Jongdae offers. "You'll get it done faster. And then, at least, I'll have something to do all day."

Right. Joonmyun's left Jongdae to his own devices for days and days, but he hadn't thought of what Jongdae would be doing in that time. Nothing. "Sure," Joonmyun says, feeling a little guilty. "As long as you want to. And I hope you like history."

"Hate it," Jongdae replies, but he's grinning. "It was my least favorite subject in school. But I'll try. For you."

"After lunch, maybe?" Joonmyun takes a look at Jongdae and amends, "And a shower."

"We need it,” Jongdae laughs, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I’ll need you to show me the way to the library, though.”

“Of course,” Joonmyun says. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”

They make sure, one last time, that May and Socks are safely in their stalls, and then Joonmyun takes them through another shortcut: this time, it’s one of the passageways the servants usually use. These passages are winding and easy to get lost in—Joonmyun's needed a servant's help to get out countless times, but now he knows these places as well as they do.

"Here's what I know so far," Joonmyun says. "The curse, as you know, forces the first person to hold my hand to marry me. Centuries ago, one of my ancestors made a Faerie—I think her name is Aria—extremely angry, so angry that she cursed his entire family lineage. We still need to find out why. And as far as I know, the only one who can remove a curse like this is the one who cast it herself. So if we can find something, anything, that'll tell us where she is… I'll go."

"And I'll come with you."

"You don't need to—"

"I want to," Jongdae says firmly. "Let me come with you. I got us into this mess, too."

"Only if you want to," Joonmyun says, looking at him uncertainly.

"I do."

They come to a stop just outside Jongdae's room. Joonmyun makes to leave for his own room at the other end of the hall, but pauses. He’s never felt this— _shy_? before, but he manages to turn back to Jongdae nonetheless. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” Jongdae grins. Why is it so easy for Jongdae to talk with him like this, when suddenly for Joonmyun it seems so difficult? Maybe it’s just that Joonmyun hasn’t really ever had a friend— _is_ Jongdae a friend? It's so hard to tell. Everything about this is so confusing, but maybe it doesn't really matter. Whatever it is, it's nice. A step forward is a step closer, right? Even if Joonmyun isn't sure what it is that he's trying to get closer to.

Showers always help clear Joonmyun's head a bit. That's the solution, he decides. A shower, then he'll have lunch, and then he'll head back to the library. With Jongdae. It's a scary thought, sort of, but whatever—it'll get easier. Even if that takes time.

♚

"Hey," comes Jongdae's faint voice from a couple of shelves over. They'd decided to split up the work when they started together last week, Jongdae on curses and cursebreaking first, and Joonmyun on history. And when every book in the library on curses had been exhausted, Jongdae moved on to atlases. And it's far, so Joonmyun doesn't see him much when they're working in the library, but it's kind of nice just to know someone's here with him. That he isn't alone.

Joonmyun starts to stand up, setting his book down on the ground. "Yeah?"

Jongdae comes around the corner before Joonmyun can go to him. He's looking intently down at the map in his hands, brow furrowing in concentration—it's a wonder he hasn't crashed into something yet. "I think I found something. I haven't read a lot of maps before, so I'm not sure, but… Here. Just look."

He hands the map over to Joonmyun, pointing at a spot at the top right corner of the map, where there's a mark so small Joonmyun probably never would have noticed if he were the one looking. It's just outside of Owan, which is a few days' journey by horse west of Saira, if what he's heard from his father is correct. Joonmyun has to squint at the symbol there for a few moments to make out a tiny wand—and one look at the key tells him that it's a Faerie's dwelling place—and next to it, in half-faded black letters, AR A.

Joonmyun looks up at Jongdae, eyes wide. "This…"

"Do you think that's it?" Jongdae asks. He looks sort of like he doesn't believe it himself, but at the same time there's excitement growing there, just like it's already starting to bloom in Joonmyun's chest. This is it. It has to be.

"We found it," Joonmyun breathes, eyes flicking from one spot on the map to another just to make sure he's not seeing things. "We did it."

"Does this mean we're leaving soon?"

Right. It's almost like, in the process of searching for the information they need to go on this journey, he's forgotten that there's actually a journey to come. Maybe he's gotten a little too lost in these shelves, in these books, in spending time with Jongdae (which he's begun to like much more than he wants to admit). "I guess it does. Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I think—so you'll need to start packing right about now."

Jongdae nods and makes to leave, excitement in his every movement and the way his eyes are all lit up, even if he's got a straight face. Something crosses Joonmyun's mind, though, and he stops him.

"But before you go," he says, stopping Jongdae in his tracks. "Let's go over everything we know again. Write it down, just to be sure."

"But we know everything already," Jongdae frowns. "Why do we need to do that?"

"So we don't forget. And it helps me feel more organized about it, I guess. Everything seems all jumbled in my head when I think about it, so I think it'd be nice to have it down where I can read and reread it every now and then, especially once we're out of the palace and don't have books there when we need them."

That's a new thought, too—Joonmyun's left before, obviously, but it's only ever been on short trips around town. Never out of the kingdom, either. His parents never thought it was a good idea to put Joonmyun at risk of having something like this happen, except they always talked about nobility from other kingdoms doing it for power, and the like. He supposes they never thought this would be a possibility.

Jongdae has already gone and come back with parchment and something to write with by the time Joonmyun forces himself to focus on the present. "So. What we know."

Joonmyun hums and stares up at the ceiling, trying to remember everything they'd found from the books. "We know… that the Faerie's name is Aria. She lives just outside the border of Owan, which is just a few days away if you go by horse. The curse forces me to marry the first person to hold my hand, and the only way to break it is to go to her ourselves and ask her to reverse it somehow. She might ask for offerings, or a sacrifice, and she's stubborn with what she wants, so whatever it is, we'll probably have to give it to her. Still no knowledge on what my ancestor did to make her angry, but it seems like it'll be something petty. Aria is known to be easily angered by those kinds of things. What else?"

"I think that might be everything," Jongdae says. He drums on his thigh with the fingers of one hand as he thinks, mouth twisted in thought. "Huh. For all the searching we've done, we don't have much, do we?"

"We don't," Joonmyun agrees. "But it's enough."

Jongdae nods and takes a deep breath. "So we're really doing this."

"We are."

"And I was just starting to get used to this place," he says with a faint smile, looking all around them almost wistfully. "I guess things just aren't meant to stay the same here."

"I always liked change anyway," Joonmyun says. It doesn't come out like he intends, easy and carefree, but instead a bit… sad? Not exactly. He can't place it.

Jongdae just nods and turns again to leave. "I'll see you at dinner. I'm gonna pack."

"I think I will too." Joonmyun sets the book in his hands back onto the shelf and stretches, looking over the list again, folding it up, and tucking it into his pocket, along with the map. With one last glance over his shoulder, he leaves the library, letting the door swing closed behind him.

Anyway, he thinks, at least he's living out a childhood dream now. He gets to be the prince on an exciting adventure, like he always wanted, even if he's not saving some princess or whatever he'd imagined at the time. And… well. Even if this doesn't work like he's hoping for it to, at least, after all of this, he'll have had one last adventure. This is something to hold on to.

♚

The only sign Joonmyun leaves of his departure is a note, rolled up neatly on his desk, complete with a wax seal. The servants will find it, he's sure, and then his parents will know, but it'll already be too late to bring him and Jongdae back. Joonmyun figures they'd expected him to do this anyway.

They leave just as the sun starts to rise and the halls are still a gloomy grey, the whole palace quiet and peaceful. Jongdae takes his shoes off so he's walking in just socks—the heels click too loudly, make it too obvious where they are. Joonmyun follows his example.

It's actually not as hard as they expect to get to the stables, even with heavy bags on their backs and both of them tripping multiple times on the way there. Socks is already wide awake when they arrive, looking at Joonmyun and blinking slowly, as if she's been expecting them. Joonmyun chuckles and whispers, patting her neck, "How'd you know?" Socks fidgets a bit under his hands, and he grins. "Hurry, hurry. I know."

Jongdae's ready with May by the time Joonmyun's heading out of the stables, following closely behind. Joonmyun leads them on a roundabout path through the gardens and around the side of the castle, and then they head for the gate. The guard there is usually sleeping at this hour, so they'll get through without much trouble.

But when they get there, it's not the guard sleeping at his post like usual. Instead, Yifan is sitting just outside the gate atop his own horse, carrying a small bag.

"Yifan?" Joonmyun says, slowing to a stop. "What are you doing here?"

Next to him, Jongdae has stiffened. He glances between Joonmyun and Yifan worriedly, nervously. But Yifan's been Joonmyun's personal guard for years. Joonmyun can't even imagine Yifan doing something to jeopardize something he knows must be important to Joonmyun—important enough to sneak out of the castle in secret, at least.

"You're going to travel for days and days, all alone, Your Highness. It's dangerous," Yifan points out. "So I'm coming with you."

"But… how'd you know we were going in the first place?" Jongdae asks. Joonmyun and Yifan exchange a look.

"I always know."

When Jongdae gives him a confused look, Joonmyun shrugs. "It's not like we were trying to be discreet about it or anything. Yifan picks up on things."

"I am prepared, Your Highness," Yifan says, gesturing to the bag in his hand. "Shall we go?"

Joonmyun glances over at Jongdae, tries to give him a reassuring look, and then nods. "Yes. Let's."

♚

Joonmyun's not sure why he hadn't asked Yifan to come with them earlier—having worked as a messenger for the palace for years, Yifan knows Saira's surrounding areas like the back of his hand. And it's good to have a familiar presence here. As much time as he's spent with Jongdae, it's still nice to be with someone he's comfortable with, someone he's already spent a few years with.

Yifan guides them past the quiet streets of the town, on a route that takes them around the houses or open fields with early risers already at work, hopefully away from prying eyes. It's a long way around, but at least this way they won't stir up any commotion—Joonmyun hadn't considered that people would be awake this early. There are a lot of things about this Joonmyun hadn't thought about, actually. Maybe spontaneity isn't exactly for him.

They reach the west gate after another fifteen minutes or so of weaving between squat houses and a few large estates, and Joonmyun casts one last look behind him before he follows after Yifan and Jongdae, who have already passed through. There's no guard here right now—Yifan's doing, probably. The west gate is a bit higher up, so it's easy to see most of the kingdom from here, clusters and clusters of houses and manors and fields, and then in the distance, right in the middle of it all, the palace. It's more like a castle, really, since it's centuries old and looks sort of like one, but there's been peace in all the surrounding kingdoms for so many decades, so Joonmyun's grandmother remodeled most of it fifty or so years ago, and so it has stayed. He can see the garden in the back from here, so tiny from here, but he still remembers the way he used to think it was so, so big. The palace was his whole world, and now—

"Joonmyun?" Jongdae calls from the gate. "What are you waiting for?"

Joonmyun turns back towards him and shakes his head, and follows through the gate without another glance. "Nothing. Sorry I kept you waiting."

Jongdae gives him a look. Not one of his irritated ones, or the ones he gives when Joonmyun does something strange, or—well, anything he's done before, but it's… something softer. But it's there for just a fleeting moment and then it's gone, so fast Joonmyun isn't sure he ever really saw it.

They make their way onto the path ahead. It disappears into the woods beyond the gate, dark even as light starts to filter through the leaves and birds flit from tree to tree, singing little snatches of songs Joonmyun barely catches. It's a little scary, unfamiliar, but listening to the sounds of their horses' steps and the birds' songs, breathing in the sweet spring air, Joonmyun thinks he just might like this.

Around midday, they stop in a small clearing to have lunch; Joonmyun's got dried meat, fruits, and bread from home, and a few perishable things, which they share. It's not up to his usual fare at the palace, but it's not terrible.

A few hours later, the path through the woods opens up into a flat expanse of land, bare but for the path that leads so far off into the distance they can't see the end of it.

Jongdae sidles up to him, leading May over with gentle hands. "So," he starts. "We've spent a lot of time together, but we still haven't gotten to know each other. Not really."

"Okay, uh…" Joonmyun pauses to think. "What's your favorite color, then?"

"Orange. Come on," Jongdae teases, "you can do better than that."

"Fine," Joonmyun laughs, considering. "Tell me a sad story about yourself."

Jongdae thinks about it for a moment, and then he begins. "So when I was younger, like ten or twelve maybe, I had the hugest crush on this girl in my class. She was visiting for a couple of months with her father. We were pretty good friends, actually, and the better I knew her, the more I liked her. And I'd pour my heart out into these awful, awful poems I'd write for her, but I never got up enough courage to give them to her. Or tell her how I felt." He pauses.

"And then?" Joonmyun prods.

"And then," says Jongdae slowly, pausing for dramatic effect, "she died."

"You can't be serious," Joonmyun says after a beat.

Jongdae grins. "I'm not. You didn't say it needed to be _true_."

"Oh my god," Joonmyun splutters indignantly. "So none of that was true. You—"

"Okay, most of it was true," Jongdae admits, "just not the dying part. What really happened was she left, and then I never saw her again. And I never got to say anything or give her the poems—but I should probably be glad I didn't, in hindsight. Still, though. It seemed like the end of the world, but… Whatever. Tell me a happy story, since I just told you a sad one."

Joonmyun has to think about this for a bit, too, before he settles on something that brings a smile to his face just thinking about it.

"The first time I met Yifan, then," he decides. "I was thirteen, I think, so he was still a messenger, and he came to my room to bring me something—I don't remember what."

"Something you left in the library," Yifan chips in from behind them.

"Right, I used to be so forgetful." At "used to be," Yifan raises an eyebrow, but mercifully says nothing. "Anyway, I realized I didn't know where my gloves were. Yifan and I were frantic, because I didn't have gloves on and they were gloves handed down from my _ancestors_ , so we tore through my room looking for it until it was so messy we couldn't see the floor anymore. And Yifan ended up sticking paper bags over my hands because he was scared he'd touch them, so I was walking around with two paper bags on my hands while we tried to look for stuff, and it was just—crazy. And it was kind of fun, actually, as scared as we were. We found the gloves under a towel in the bathroom, and after that I think we were friends. Right, Yifan? That's why you're my guard now."

Yifan nods. "Yes, Your Highness. The Queen said she trusted your judgment."

Jongdae's grinning right along with Joonmyun (though Yifan's face is still as passive as before). "I'm imagining you running around and panicking with paper bags over your hand," he snorts. "It's such a funny thought."

"I probably looked ridiculous," Joonmyun says. "But it wouldn't be as good a memory if I didn't."

"But your gloves," Jongdae starts, and then stops, looking down at the gloves. "How come you're still wearing them? Since you've already held my hand. They don't really have a use anymore, right?"

"I guess not," Joonmyun agrees. Actually, he hadn't really thought about it—as hot as it is, he's gotten so used to the feeling of wearing a glove, it's almost second nature. "I should probably take them off, shouldn't I? They might draw too much attention in the towns we stop by, anyway."

The gloves go into a saddlebag, carefully folded so the fabric won't crease too much, and Joonmyun spends the rest of the day getting used to the feel of his bare hands on Socks's reins and combing through her mane, or the way his hands finally don't feel like they're being suffocated and trapped inside fabric for once. It'd been an easy feeling to get used to, even in summer, but now that he's gotten to spend some time with them off, he doesn't ever want to put those gloves back on. Freedom for his hands at last.

They reach a small town sometime in the night, when the sun has long since set. Joonmyun's thought about stopping for the night for the last couple of hours, since it's so dark, but the town is close enough that he, Jongdae, and Yifan decided it was close enough to keep going on. Three separate rooms at a hostel barely even cost a few coins, and they're all exhausted enough that they skip the lady at the front's invitation to go to the bar in favor of heading to their rooms to sleep.

Joonmyun, though, finds himself restless, even though he's just as tired as Jongdae and Yifan—somehow, his mind won't shut off, and he keeps on thinking about what he's done, what he's doing, what he's going to do, how he's going to do it… It's endless, stressful, and no matter what he tries he finds he can't fall asleep here. He's never slept somewhere so unfamiliar before, in a bed that isn't his own. It's hard, too, not to think about the way the room smells faintly of dust and something strange, how the stiff sheets of the bed beneath him chafe at his skin, and how he's pretty sure there must be at least fifteen bugs hiding under the bed; it keeps him awake for what feels like hours and hours until he can't take it anymore.

His legs take him out of his room and straight to Jongdae's like they have a mind of their own, and Joonmyun hesitates before he knocks on Jongdae's door. This is… embarrassing. He knocks again, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as he waits for someone to come. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, maybe—

"Hey," Jongdae mumbles sleepily, opening the door just a little as he squints against the lights coming from the lanterns in the hall. "What's happening?"

"I just—uh," Joonmyun says, looking at the ground. "I couldn't sleep, so I was wondering if, maybe… I could sleep here? With you?"

"Oh," Jongdae says. He shrugs. "Sure. Come in."

Jongdae's bed is just as uncomfortable as the one in Joonmyun's room, and for a moment, he wonders why he even came here. But Jongdae smells a little like home, after spending a few weeks in the palace,and somehow still there's that lingering scent that's clung to him since Joonmyun first met him, light and faintly sweet. Spring. It's the smell of spring. And that's not much like the palace, but it's… Jongdae. Joonmyun doesn't know what that means, but he finds himself relaxing anyway, listening to the sound of Jongdae's breaths slowing from an uncomfortable arm's length away. And slowly, Joonmyun finds himself falling asleep with him.

♚

It's bright out when Joonmyun wakes; he tries to move a hand to block the sunlight from his eyes, but he finds he can't—someone's arms are wrapped firmly around his chest, pinning his own arms in place. Jongdae. Right. He's in Jongdae's room.

In the midst of trying to extricate himself from Jongdae's grasp, Jongdae stirs.

"What," he whines, shifting and tightening his grip on Joonmyun even further.

"Um, Jongdae—" Joonmyun starts. Jongdae opens his eyes a crack, peering up at him from where his head lies pillowed on Joonmyun's shoulder.

It takes a moment, but suddenly Jongdae's eyes open wide and he clumsily pulls himself off of him, staring resolutely at the sheets as he mumbles, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Joonmyun says, and he wonders why it feels so much like it's _not_. Like there's something more than just discomfort in the air, but—whatever. He needs to get dressed.

They meet Yifan in the dining room a few minutes later. His plate is already empty—he always is awake early, and by now it must be nearing noon. It's ten or eleven now, maybe.

"So we'll keep heading west," Jongdae says through a mouthful of porridge. Joonmyun gives him a look, but Jongdae doesn't notice, seemingly too absorbed in eating to care about manners. At least this isn't the palace. "And then where do we go?"

"It's only a couple of days to Owan, isn't it, Yifan?" Joonmyun asks. _He_ eats his food properly, bringing the spoon in his hand to his lips slowly and carefully, so as not to spill a drop.

"Yes, You—" Yifan begins, and then cuts himself off. He's decided to drop the "Your Highness" in public places, so as not to attract attention, but it seems like a difficult adjustment. "Yes. There is another town a few hours from here, and then Owan is a day and a half away. We can either stay at the town and spend a little longer on the trip, or—"

"Yifan?" someone calls. "Is that you?"

Joonmyun looks over Yifan's shoulder to see a man with light hair and clothes vaguely resembling Yifan's walking over with a grin on his face. He's almost as tall as Yifan. Joonmyun resents that.

"Zitao!" Yifan says. Well. _That's_ a tone Joonmyun has never heard him use. It's so… cheery. "It's been so long!"

"Hasn't it?" Zitao slings an arm around Yifan's shoulder, and takes a seat on the bench next to him. He sighs wistfully. "Ah, I remember the days when we were messengers together. Good times, huh? Sometimes I kinda miss it. Playing pranks on Chanyeol, messing around in the—"

"Yes," Yifan cuts in stiffly. He's hiding something, isn't he? Joonmyun's curiosity is piqued. "It was fun."

"Aw, c'mon, Yifan," Zitao prods, grinning. "The last time I saw you, you weren't like this. Live a little! Let go!"

"We're doing… important things," Yifan says. "I don't have time to _live a little_."

"Important things?" Zitao looks excited at that, casting glances between Yifan and Joonmyun and Jongdae. His eyes flicker back to Joonmyun, and then he narrows his eyes. "Hey, aren't you…"

Yifan shushes him loudly, and the men at the next table over send him a dirty look.

"Yes," Joonmyun says. "I don't think it's, um, public knowledge, so you probably shouldn't—"

"Oh, I get it," Zitao says, his eyes lighting up. "This is a _secret_. Fun! Hey, I don't have anything to do for a while. Can I come?"

Joonmyun looks over at Yifan to exchange a look with him, but Yifan won't look anywhere but his empty plate. Things start to make a little more sense.

"Sure," Joonmyun says, a slow smile starting to spread across his face as Yifan looks up, alarmed. "Why not?"

♚

They've only been with Zitao a couple of hours, but Joonmyun likes him already. He's full of stories, more talkative than even Jongdae, and the way he smiles, especially at Yifan, is genuinely sweet.

"I trained for a few years after I left my messenger post," he says when Joonmyun asks what he does, now that he's not a messenger for the palace anymore. "Self-defense. And I liked it, but after a while I just didn't feel like I had a purpose there anymore, you know? So I decided to wander. And visit Yifan over here every now and again."

Joonmyun looks over at where Yifan is, on the other side of where Zitao sits on his horse. Yifan isn't looking at him. "Oh, were you two good friends?"

"Your Highness, _please_." Yifan looks so pained Joonmyun can't tell if he's just embarrassed, or if he's actually dying from the heat.

"So," Jongdae says loudly, before anyone else can say anything. He casts Yifan a pitying look. "That's the town in the distance, right?"

Joonmyun follows Jongdae's line of sight to where, not to far from where they are, is a cluster of houses. Another half hour of traveling, maybe.

"I think so," he says. "So we can stop there and let the horses rest a little while. And we can get some food before we move on."

They separate briefly in the town, Yifan and Zitao going to buy food, and Jongdae tagging along with Joonmyun to buy more supplies. They return to their horses with four sets of thin blankets and pillows, and supplies to make tents with; they find Yifan and Zitao at the market with fresh fruit and baked goods that'll last them at least another day or two, until they get to Owan.

It's another four hours or so before they settle down for the night somewhere off to the side of the path. The makeshift tent is even less comfortable than the bed in the hostel last night, and Joonmyun shifts uncomfortably, feeling every little rock on the hard ground underneath him pressing into his back. It smells vaguely dusty in the tent, and nothing like home, and, well—he misses it. But the air tonight, at least, is just the right amount of warm, and Joonmyun can feel his eyelids getting heavy before he knows it. Sleep comes easy to him after that, and tonight, he dreams of the palace, soft beds, and the way the itchy, sticky fabric of his gloves used to cling to his skin in the heat of summer.

Owan isn't far after that. They get there halfway through the next day and spend the rest of it resting. Aria's lair isn't too far from here, so if they're lucky, they've almost reached the end—but something tells Joonmyun they'll need the rest.

"I think I know where that is," Zitao says thoughtfully at breakfast the next morning, looking at the map Joonmyun has laid out in front of him. "I've been on that road before, yeah. I can take you guys there, no problem."

Yifan beams. Joonmyun thinks he feels a little sick.

So Zitao leads the way when they finally leave Owan out the north exit. There's a tension around the four of them, an air of nervousness, maybe, and it's quiet until Zitao points at something on the right of the road, too far to make out clearly.

"I think that's it," Zitao says. He casts a look back at them before he starts to move towards it, and gradually, the rest of them follow.

Joonmyun squints at it as they get closer. It looks sort of like a house—no, it _is_ a house. Someone lives here.

"I dunno," Jongdae says. "This isn't much of a lair. I dunno if this is the kind of place a Faerie would live…"

"You never know!" Zitao says. He sounds almost indignant. "I've found things in stranger places. Strangely normal, I mean."

It's a scary thought, that they've only just set out on this trip, and maybe, just maybe, they've already reached the end. And that Joonmyun'll have to confront the Faerie that cursed him, even when he's not ready for it in the least. He needs another week to mentally prepare himself for this. At the very least.

His heart is pounding in his chest when they come to a stop ten feet from the house. It's squat, like the houses Joonmyun saw in Saira, but there’s something different about it. Strange. The curtains that cover the windows are dark, so they can’t even get a peek at what’s inside. Joonmyun doesn’t know what to expect. He sort of wishes they were still halfway to Owan, right about now. This is happening too fast. He’s not ready for it.

Jongdae looks over at him and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Let’s go.”

“Zitao and I can watch the horses,” Yifan says, taking the reins from Joonmyun as he dismounts. “You should go ahead.”

With a shaky nod, Joonmyun takes a few steps forward. His shoes knock against Jongdae's a little as they head towards the house together, walking at a pace that's not quite slow but not fast either, somewhere in between. He almost doesn't want to ever get there.

The door is just inches away far too soon, and Joonmyun exchanges a glance with Jongdae before he knocks gently on the door. It barely makes a sound. Jongdae's shoulders relax a little as he laughs through his nose and Joonmyun grins a little, and then knocks twice again, this time not so timidly.

One second passes. Two seconds. Three, four. Joonmyun doesn't know what to expect. He watches the door with growing anxiety, staring so hard it's almost as if he expects some terrifying creature to pop out from behind it at any moment. Ten seconds, now. There's still nothing.

A whole minute passes before Jongdae says, voice quiet like he's afraid someone will hear, "Should we knock again?"

"I—I guess," Joonmyun says. Jongdae reaches up and knocks loudly, three times this time. They wait, but again, there's no answer.

It's another three tries before Zitao comes over, looking exasperated. "What's taking you so long?"

"No one's answering," Joonmyun says worriedly. "I don't know what to do."

"Do you really expect a Faerie to just open her door to anyone that comes?" Zitao sighs. "Being polite isn't gonna get you anywhere. Here, let me just—"

In one swift movement, Zitao steps back just a foot or so from the door, and does a fancy thing with his foot before kicking the door in, just like that. It falls to the ground loudly, and the sound of it echoes.

"Thanks," Joonmyun says after a moment. Zitao rolls his eyes and heads back to the horses, where Yifan looks on with round eyes. Joonmyun has to take a moment to steel himself before he glances over at Jongdae for just an instant, lets the reassurance in his eyes calm him a little, and goes in, Jongdae following at his heels.

The inside of the house feels bigger than it looks from the outside. It's sparsely furnished, but it looks lived-in, maybe a little worn. Their footsteps echo in the quiet of the entrance; Joonmyun wonders if there's even anyone living here anymore, if they've found the wrong place, until he looks to his right and spots a— _green?_ —fire in the living room hearth.

"This is it," Jongdae says, following Joonmyun's gaze to the fireplace. "This is definitely it."

"But she isn't here," Joonmyun says slowly, looking around the rooms in front of them for someone, anyone. They check the rest of the rooms, too, but still, there's no one.

They're back in the living room when Jongdae tugs on his arm excitedly, pointing at the table in the center of the room.

"Look," he says. "There's something there."

Upon closer inspection, it's a slip of paper, with something written in script so small Joonmyun can barely make it out without having to bring it closer to his face to see.

"What does it say?"

Joonmyun squints a little, brings it up a little closer, and reads:

" _You're not the first to look for me,_  
To come in search of sympathy—  
But I won't rest until you bring  
Back to me three stolen things:  
First, return something you keep  
And surely won't forget.  
Next, bring me a girl who sleeps  
In the place where you first met.  
Then go look for the cup that lies  
Beneath Ivy's great tail,  
And if you bring me back these three  
Things I love, I'll set you free—  
But if you fail, you'll worry, you'll fret;  
I'll make this something you'll regret."

On the back, there's just one more line: _You have one week._

"Whoa," Jongdae says. "That last part is kinda scary."

"But we won't ever have to know what it means," Joonmyun says firmly. He reads over the poem again, eyes stopping on one line towards the end. _Beneath Ivy's great tail_.

Ivy. The name sparks a memory—a story the serving boys liked to tell each other a long time ago, when Joonmyun would listen to them talk in the kitchen from around the corner until someone came out and he pretended he was just lost. It's a story from a long time ago, and he doesn't remember it all that clearly, but Ivy he remembers. Ivy the dragon, green as the envy that once turned her from a woman to a beast, Ivy the dragon who protects her treasure with the stubbornness and fierceness only possessed by those who've nothing else to lose. Ivy, who steals from passing travelers when they're sleeping and unaware. If that cup was stolen from Aria, Joonmyun can imagine how Ivy could've gotten ahold of it.

"Can I see that?" Jongdae asks. His eyes are all lit up, and he scans the riddle once more before looking back up at Joonmyun excitedly. "The cup that lies. It's not just a cup that lies beneath her tail, but it's a cup that _lies_ —a goblet, actually."

"That makes no sense," Joonmyun frowns. "Actually, none of this makes any sense. What does any of this even _mean_?"

"No, listen—the cup, it's cursed. Anyone who touches it is forced to lie, no matter what it's about or how hard you try to tell the truth. Even if all you try to say is, like, 'My name is Kim Joonmyun,' it wouldn't let you. You'd say someone else's name instead."

"And?"

"And… that's it, I guess. It's caused a lot of trouble in the past. It's crazy what people'll believe."

"But that won't happen to us," Joonmyun says. "We know."

"Yeah, don't worry," Jongdae says. "My parents just liked to tell me folk tales when I was younger. The goblet was in a lot of them. But anyway. Let's go tell Yifan and Zitao."

"Why is so vague?" Zitao complains when he's read over the riddle a couple of times, frowning at the paper. "Why can't she just _tell_ us? This is stupid."

"Things are never easy with Faeries," Yifan says. "You know that."

Zitao sighs. "I hate Faeries."

"Don't say that here," Yifan hisses. "What if she's hiding somewhere? What if she hears?"

"Whatever," Zitao says. "I don't care. Faeries are stupid."

"Well, anyway," Joonmyun cuts in before Zitao says anything more, "there's more we haven't told you yet."

When Joonmyun tells them about the goblet and then Ivy, Zitao sounds excited again, though. "Ivy! I knew I knew that name from somewhere."

"You knew the stories too?" Joonmyun grins.

"Yeah, and I know where she is," Zitao says. "If we leave now, we'll get there in a couple of days, probably. It's not that far."

"How do you know where it is?"

"Like I said," Zitao shrugs. "I traveled a lot for a while. I've been past there a couple of times."

"Is it really like the stories say?" Joonmyun asks eagerly, feeling a little foolish for it, but he's always wanted to know. Ever since he was a kid. "Covered in—"

"Ivy, yeah," Zitao finishes for him, grinning. "Like her name."

"Then I suppose we'll know it when we see it," Joonmyun says. They mount their horses again and let Zitao take the lead, heading north, even further away from Owan now. "Let's go."

The path ahead stretches off into the distance, so far Joonmyun can't see an end, just a long, long road in front of them, with nothing and no one in their way.

♚

Jongdae rereads the riddle over and over as they continue on the next day, frowning and murmuring the words to himself instead of talking like he usually does. Joonmyun's already got it memorized, but he can't make any sense of most of it.

"So we know the third part," Jongdae says at lunch, taking a large bite of bread and speaking as he chews. "The goblet in Ivy's cave. But what do the other parts mean?"

"' _First, return something you keep and surely won't forget,_ " Joonmyun recites. "That could be anything, couldn't it? It could be my lucky coin, for all I know."

"You have a lucky coin?" Jongdae snorts.

"Yes," Joonmyun says, feeling defensive. "And I've never forgotten to bring it with me, ever."

"Even on this trip?"

Joonmyun thinks about it for a second, checks his pockets, and then gives an embarrassed laugh. "Okay, so I forgot it."

"Then she doesn't mean that," Jongdae says easily. "There's got to be something."

"I can't think of anything. Maybe we'll figure it out later," Joonmyun says. He breaks a piece off of Jongdae's bread (which earns him a playful glare) and hums, considering. "I wonder how she knows I'd never forget it."

"Who knows," Jongdae shrugs. "Faeries are weird."

Joonmyun laughs. "I wouldn't know. What do you think about the next two lines, though? A girl who sleeps where we first met. I don't think I've ever even _met_ a girl. Other than my mother."

"Maybe she wants you to sacrifice your mother?" Jongdae muses. "But that's kinda weird, too, I guess. Because she said the things she wants were stolen… And probably a long time ago, right? I don't think your mother is centuries old."

"Definitely not," Joonmyun agrees. "Why does it feel like the more we think about it, the less it makes sense?"

"Maybe we're thinking it through too much," Jongdae suggests. "Maybe it's simpler than we think."

Joonmyun gives a sigh and slumps back against one of the saddlebags he'd pulled off of Socks to rest on. Laughing a little, he says, "What if it's so obvious it's practically impossible to figure out? Or what if it's actually really easy, and Aria's just watching us struggle and laughing at how stupid we are. Imagine if the answer was right in front of us all along."

"How dumb would we be if that were true," Jongdae laughs. He stands up and stretches; a few feet away, Yifan and Zitao are doing the same, getting up to go again. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Joonmyun says. He gathers his things and stands, too. "Ready as I'll ever be."

♚

They spot the cave on the morning of the third day, when bare ground starts to give way to sparse grass, and they see only fields and fields of it ahead of them. It's a little later than Zitao had predicted, but they've still got five days to find the other two things. Joonmyun can only hope that it'll be enough.

"We don't really have a way to keep a dragon from killing us," Zitao says as they start getting closer to the cave, "so there's only one thing we can do. I'll be there with you guys to try and stop her if anything happens, but if things go well, she won't be awake when we go to get the goblet. If she is, I can knock her out. Or something like that. Do we have anything we can hold the goblet with?"

"Wait, wait," Yifan interrupts. "Dragons aren't people, Zitao, are you sure—"

"No. But I'm gonna try."

"What happens if it doesn't work?" Joonmyun asks apprehensively, glancing over at the cave in the distance.

"Then," Zitao says, "we run."

They stop thirty feet or so from the cave; it's huge up close, the entrance dark and foreboding, ropes of ivy obscuring their view in. Zitao strides over fearlessly, turning back at the mouth of it to frown at the rest of them. "Hurry up," he mouths, looking impatient.

Joonmyun follows after him on shaky legs, blanket held tight in his hand, and he feels Jongdae place a gentle hand on his arm and hears him say softly, so softly Joonmyun barely catches it, "We'll be okay."

"Yeah," Joonmyun mumbles back. He can feel his shoulders relaxing as he nods, can feel his apprehension ease a little as he looks into the seemingly endless depths of the mouth of the cave.

"Yifan, you're not coming?" Zitao calls. When Joonmyun looks over his shoulder, Yifan's still on his own horse with the rest of their horses and possessions.

"I need to watch our things," Yifan says.

"Come on," Zitao pouts. "Have a little fun! Have an adventure!"

"We're _on_ an adventure."

"Aw, but this is so exciting! Haven't you ever wanted to see a dragon?"

"Not particularly."

"I bet you do," Zitao persists. "Come with us! You know you want to."

Yifan casts the entrance of the cave a nervous glance. "How about next time."

"Fine," Zitao sighs. "Let's go, then. I hope I wasn't too loud."

"Do you think she could've heard?" Joonmyun says, biting his lip and looking up at the cave. It's set in the side of a mountain, the top so high up they haven't been able to see it since they spotted it this morning. Ivy lines the entrance, peeking out from cracks between rocks and hanging over the entrance so thickly the gaps are only big enough for them to fit through. Joonmyun just hopes it's enough of a barrier to muffle the sound of them talking.

When they step inside the entrance of the cave, though, their footsteps echo louder than Joonmyun expects them to. Every little sound seems to carry through the area around them as they walk deeper and deeper into the dark, clinging to the rough wall. Joonmyun keeps a hand on Zitao's shoulder, and Jongdae one on Joonmyun's, and it's reassuring to at least feel them near him when he can't see them for himself.

There's a pinprick of light in the distance. They follow it, staying close to the wall and feeling the cave open up as they get closer and the sound of their every movement bounces off the opposite wall to them, so far away now. And when they finally, finally get close enough to see what's past the mouth of the entrance of that space, Joonmyun's heart just about stops in his chest.

Ivy is unmistakable, bigger than Joonmyun ever could have imagined and a vibrant green, even brighter than the grass and tendrils of ivy all around her. The light from a hole in the ceiling reflects off her scales almost as brightly as it does off of the gold that she's curled around protectively; it's brilliant enough a sight to take Joonmyun's breath away for a moment. At least, until he sees movement and comes to a realization—it's _Ivy_. Ivy is moving. She's awake.

"Shit," Zitao says under his breath, but even that is too loud in the wide, echoey cave, and in an instant they can see Ivy turning towards the entrance to her lair. They freeze in place, flattening themselves against the wall, and hope desperately that she can't see them—not that it matters much anyway. She can probably smell them, smell the fear climbing up Joonmyun's throat and choking him so he can't breathe. Hiding is of no use. They might as well just talk and sing and scream, even, because she already knows they're there.

 _What do we do?_ Joonmyun wants to say, but Zitao speaks before he can. "I can take her," he says, voice steely. "Whatever happens, just—just find the goblet and run."

"Why?" comes Jongdae's voice from behind him. "You barely know us. Why risk your life for us?"

There's a long pause, accompanied by muffled noises and the sound of Ivy shifting not fifty feet away. Finally, Zitao says, soft and solemn, "You're important to him. This is important to him. And if he cares enough to come with you here, I'm gonna see this through."

They don't need to ask who _he_ is. But as Joonmyun sees Zitao's silhouette start to move towards the entrance, he feels Jongdae let go of his shoulder, too—and then there's Jongdae running ahead of Zitao, towards the light.

"Just wait a second!" he whispers, the sound of it loud in the cave as he slows down, approaching the entrance carefully. "I have an idea."

Ivy is just inside the entrance. Zitao and Joonmyun watch with bated breath as Jongdae inches in slowly, just as gentle and cautious as he had been when approaching May for the first time back in the stables. It's a full minute before he disappears into the opening, and then another ten of quiet before Jongdae pokes his head back into the cave and calls softly, "You guys can come in now. But take it slow, and don't be loud."

Ivy's head is lowered almost all the way to the ground so she's at just the right height for Jongdae to scratch a spot on the side of her neck that makes her close her eyes contentedly; she seems as pleased as Joonmyun could ever imagine a dragon to look. Jongdae's smiling and cooing at her, chatting with and teasing her like he does with May, like she's just another person to talk to. It's sweet.

Joonmyun edges in with Zitao, careful to make as little noise as possible on their way in. The two of them split up, Zitao taking one side of Ivy's treasure pile, and Joonmyun the other. It's too loud to dig, so he checks on the surface first, but there's no sign of a cup or a goblet, just jewelry and miscellaneous pieces of furniture. Nothing they want.

But the riddle. _Beneath Ivy's great tail._ It could be…

"Jongdae," Joonmyun whispers. Jongdae turns and walks towards Joonmyun, moving so he's still patting Ivy's side comfortingly. "I need to check under her tail."

Jongdae frowns. "Do you think she's like a cat? What if she hates having her tail touched?"

"I don't know anything about dragons," Joonmyun says helplessly. "Maybe she does. Do you think we could try?"

Jongdae looks uncertain, but he nods. "Yeah. Here, I'll…"

He moves down towards her tail, where it's curled in towards her abdomen, and Joonmyun stays close by to make sure his steps on top of the pile are steady. Ivy shifts a little in place the further away from her head she moves, and she makes a dissatisfied sound when he takes his hand off her altogether. And when he places a hand on her tail, she thrashes, shifting so plates and spoons and necklaces tumble down the pile of gold and Jongdae almost slips.

At the sound of the commotion, Zitao comes around the corner of the pile. "What happened?"

"Zitao," Joonmyun says gratefully. "We need your help."

Zitao takes Jongdae's place by Ivy's tail as Jongdae tries to soothe her, patting her neck and speaking softly to her until she seems calm again. Jongdae gives them a nod, and Zitao carefully picks her tail up, with great effort; it seems heavy, and Ivy fidgets even when Jongdae does his best to calm her.

"Hurry," Zitao hisses. Joonmyun searches desperately for the cup—it's got to be _somewhere_ here, he's sure of it—but it's nowhere to be seen, even here. Ivy starts to shift like she's about to stand and Joonmyun starts slipping down the little hill as the metal starts falling down like an avalanche. But just as Zitao's grip on her tail starts to slip, Joonmyun spots a goblet, glinting brightly in Ivy's shadow. He needs to get back up there—he's falling further and further down by the second—and he tries his best to climb back up, fingers trying to find purchase on something, anything.

"Just—hold on a little longer," Joonmyun gasps, fingers reaching for the leg of a chair he spots just a couple of feet away. It's almost completely buried in the pile, so if he can just get to it, he'll have a way back up, but—

"Take one more step," Zitao calls. "Right now."

One step, and he's on something sturdy, something flat, and he can finally grab onto the chair and pull himself closer. Zitao's struggling to stay standing, too, and it looks like he'll let go at any moment now. Joonmyun holds on to the chair leg tightly, pushing himself closer to the goblet one more time, and finally he manages to pull it out from under Ivy's tail and Zitao finally lets it drop, sighing in relief.

"Got it," Zitao calls to Jongdae breathlessly. "Let's go."

Almost reluctantly, Jongdae pulls himself away from Ivy and nods, giving them a bright grin and a thumbs-up. "We did it!"

"That was so awesome, Jongdae," Zitao says excitedly. They head back into the cave, hurrying back towards the light outside. Behind them, Ivy climbs up off of her gold hill and tries to stick her head through the entrance, too, but it's too small—her neck barely makes it through, and then she can't get any further. Jongdae gives her a sad look, but it's fleeting, gone after just a moment. "How'd you do that? With Ivy."

"I'm good with animals," Jongdae shrugs. "They like me. And I figured, if the horses at the palace liked me the first time I met them, a dragon might not mind me either. If I took the right approach."

 _It was amazing,_ Joonmyun wants to say, but there's a strange feeling in his chest, and what comes out instead is, "It was the wrong thing to do."

Silence. "What?" Jongdae says. "Did I hear you wrong?"

 _That's not what I meant to say,_ Joonmyun wants to scream. Instead, he just says, "No, I didn't say anything."

"Stop being so weird," Jongdae says. "What's with you?"

When Joonmyun opens his mouth to say _I don't know_ , out of nowhere comes "I don't want to be here. That's all."

"Joonmyun?" Jongdae says slowly. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"

Joonmyun's grip on the goblet in his hand tightens, and—the goblet. It's the goblet. _The goblet that lies,_ Jongdae had said. _Anyone who touches it is forced to lie, no matter what it's about or how hard you try to tell the truth._ "I'm fine."

Zitao seems to understand at the same time Joonmyun does. "The goblet. He's holding the goblet, Jongdae."

"Where did the blanket go? I should take it—"

"No," Zitao interrupts. "If he's holding it already, it's better that he keeps it for now. Things like that, they take some time to wear off. I don't need both of you spouting lies while we're still in here. In a _cave_."

Joonmyun wishes he could just let go of the goblet and wrap it in his shirt, put something between the goblet and his bare hands, but somehow, the harder he tries, the more tightly he holds onto the goblet. "This whole thing is pointless," he says. His voice sounds so venomous—like it's not even his own. "I hate that I'm here. We're not going to make it anyway. This is stupid."

"I just don't like to see him like this," Jongdae says. "It's not. Him. You know?"

"What do you mean," Joonmyun says. It feels like his mouth is on autopilot. And the longer he holds the goblet, the more it feels like there's something in his chest, just waiting for a chance to explode. "This is me. You don't even know me, do you?"

"Joonmyun, stop," Jongdae says.

Joonmyun doesn't know where this is coming from. It doesn't make sense. Why— "I wish you'd never come to Saira in the first place. All you've done is cause trouble for me. I could be _happy._ But instead I'm stuck here with you, for who knows how long."

"Joonmyun," Zitao says. There's a warning note in his voice now, but Joonmyun can't stop.

"And you. I don't even know why you're here. We don't need you here—all you do is take up space and waste our time. You should just leave, really—"

"Stop," Jongdae says loudly, sounding pained. They're almost at the mouth of the cave now, and they speed up as they get closer. Something's climbing up Joonmyun's throat, choking him and stealing his breath away, and the pressure in his chest makes him feel like it really will burst. "Stop, Joonmyun. Stop."

"Don't tell me what to do," Joonmyun says. His voice is so hateful he doesn't even recognize it as his until both Jongdae and Zitao are silent for a moment and he feels a little sick, just for saying it. Even if he didn't mean it. "You know, I really—"

"Does the curse make him keep talking?" Zitao asks. "I don't think he's ever talked this much. And I don't think he would if he could stop himself."

"Yeah," Jongdae says. His voice is the same way it had been on that first day in the palace, with the servants and the room and Jongdae wanting to help. "I'm sure he's trying to stop."

They reach the exit of the cave and Joonmyun has to squint for a moment at how bright the light is; even the fresh air, though, doesn't alleviate the pressure in his chest.

Gently, Jongdae says, "Joonmyun, you can let go now—"

"I hate you," Joonmyun bursts out, voice so loud, so spiteful that Jongdae almost jumps back in shock. Joonmyun looks down at the goblet, shaking, and finally lets it fall to the ground with a loud clatter. In an instant, the feeling that's been pushing at his chest from the inside out dissipates.

Jongdae is looking at him with wide eyes. "You didn't mean—"

Joonmyun doesn't trust himself to speak. But he manages to shake his head—at least he's got that much control now.

"It wasn't true," Zitao says. "He didn't mean it. It was the goblet speaking for him, you know that."

"Yeah, I just—" Jongdae starts, and then stops. "I don't know."

Yifan comes over, casting worried glances between Joonmyun and Jongdae as he picks the goblet up and wraps it thickly in one of their extra blankets. "Is everything okay?"

"Y-yeah," Joonmyun manages to say. The goblet's curse must still be at work.

The others decide to travel back the way they came for now. It's not a good time to discuss where to go next, not when Joonmyun is like this. They don't go very far, stopping early to settle down for the evening in a grassy field a good distance away from the cave. Yifan's scared that Ivy will come after them all, or something like that, but Jongdae says even the hole in the ceiling is too thickly covered with ivy for her to get through. But other than that, he's quieter than usual. Yifan and Zitao give him and Joonmyun a wide berth, and Joonmyun keeps quiet for a while, too. He still doesn't trust himself to speak.

The sun's setting when he decides he's ready again. Joonmyun finds Jongdae in his tent and ducks in, asking, "May I?"

Jongdae looks up at him, surprised. "Sure," he says, but he sounds hesitant. Joonmyun takes a seat next to him in the cramped, tiny tent, keeping a couple inches of distance between them. Just in case.

"You know I didn't mean that," he starts. "But I'm sorry I said it. I'd never—"

"I know you wouldn't," Jongdae says. "It's not your fault."

"But you," Joonmyun starts, and then falters. "You seemed like you felt—"

"It doesn't matter how I feel," Jongdae snaps. Then, his expression softens a little, and he sighs. "I'm sorry. That was… not necessary."

"And neither was anything I said," Joonmyun says. "I'm still sorry. If you want me to be honest, I… I really like this, actually, being here, going on this big long crazy adventure with you guys—I used to dream of doing stuff like this when I was a kid. I didn't expect to actually do it, especially after I got a little older, but I'm happy I did. Am. And I'm glad I met you. I think I was going kind of crazy, all by myself in the castle every day. I mean, I had Yifan for company, but…"

"Are we trash-talking Yifan now?" Jongdae jokes, cracking a small smile. "Because, I mean, his hair's totally, like—if you know what I mean—"

"Stop," Joonmyun laughs, feeling the tension in the air start to evaporate. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"I know you are," Jongdae says. "Thanks."

"I just wanted to make sure you knew. I didn't mean anything I said then, _anything_."

"Now that I think about it, actually," Jongdae muses, "doesn't the goblet work as sort of a reverse-truth kind of thing? So whatever you said, you meant the opposite."

"Maybe?" Joonmyun says uncertainly.

"And," says Jongdae, words slow and measured (and Joonmyun swears he sees a little bit of pink dusting his cheeks), "you said. That you hated me. So does that mean—"

"It doesn't mean anything," Joonmyun says, but it comes out too fast, too hasty.

"I don't know what I was saying anyway," Jongdae says. He clears his throat. "So."

"So."

"It's late."

"It is," Joonmyun says, standing. "I should go to bed. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah. And—" Jongdae says haltingly, just before Joonmyun's about to exit the tent. When Joonmyun turns back to look at him, Jongdae meets his eyes for just a moment, and then his gaze flickers away, to the wall of the tent, the ground. Anywhere but him.

"And?"

"And—never mind," Jongdae says, shaking his head. "It was nothing. Good night."

"Good night," Joonmyun echoes, and then he ducks out of the tent and into his own. It's late, and it's been a long day, but somehow even when he lets his eyes close, the rest of him won't shut down. Maybe Jongdae wanted to tell him something important. Or something about the goblet incident. Joonmyun can't stop thinking of all the possibilities.

Morning comes too slowly, but too soon, too. Joonmyun's ready to leave before anyone else is, already having eaten breakfast when they wake.

"This is early, even for you. Your Highness," Yifan mumbles as he packs up his tent. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah," Joonmyun says. He's had this problem for a while, since he was young, probably before he first met Yifan. Even back then, he never stopped thinking. "But it doesn't matter. We should talk about where we're going."

"Zitao and I still haven't made any sense of the other two clues, Your Highness," Yifan says. "I have no clue."

Joonmyun takes a few minutes to think about it. Jongdae and Zitao emerge and pack their things, too, and Joonmyun talks with them while they eat breakfast.

"It doesn't make any sense. There are a lot of things I'd never forget," Joonmyun sighs. "There are too many possibilities. I feel like we'll never figure it out."

"Maybe _something you keep_ it means something you've had for a long time," Zitao suggests. "Something you could've gotten rid of, but kept anyway."

"That makes a lot of sense, actually," Joonmyun says. What's something he's kept? Something he won't forget?

"Think of a memory," Jongdae says. "Maybe if it's something you feel really sentimental about…"

And suddenly, Joonmyun's reminded of the story he told Jongdae on their way to Owan. "Yifan, you remember what happened with the paper bag gloves… Didn't I keep them? Somewhere?"

"You did, Your Highness," Yifan says. "They're at the palace. I remember where they are, in a drawer in your desk."

"Then that's where we're headed," Joonmyun says resolutely. "It's the bags. It has to be."

"Didn't you forget them, though?" Jongdae says. "Almost? You didn't even know where they were."

"There's nothing else it could be," Joonmyun reasons. "This is all we've got."

Zitao knows a shortcut back to the palace, back the way they came and then through a forest just outside of Owan. "It's a two-day trip if we hurry," he says. "We can only stop in Saira for a little while, not overnight, and we'll have to figure out what that last thing is before we get there. And if we can, we might make it in time. But we've gotta hurry."

"So let's hurry," Joonmyun says.

They set a faster pace than usual today and don't take a break until midday, and even then it's only to let the horses rest and eat. And today, there's none of Jongdae's usual banter or Zitao's petty complaints, just a few questions and then Zitao giving them directions. 

" _A girl who sleeps in the place where you first met,_ " Joonmyun mutters to himself at dinner, taking a bite out of their almost-stale bread. He offers Socks a bit of an apple they picked up a few days ago, but she turns her head away. Not fresh enough, probably. Joonmyun laughs and sighs, "I've spoiled you, haven't I."

He goes to find something else for Socks to eat, and when he comes back, there's Jongdae, petting her and feeding her the apple Joonmyun had just left. When Jongdae spots him, he grins. "Jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous?" Joonmyun frowns.

"Because," Jongdae says, making a face at Socks playfully, "your horse likes me better than you."

"Come _on_ ," Joonmyun starts, but then his eyes lock on Socks and something clicks. "Wait."

"What?"

"Socks," Joonmyun says. "What if…"

"What do you mean," Jongdae says, eyes wide, but it's not a question.

"What if Socks is the girl in the riddle?" Joonmyun says. "I met her in the stables. She slept there every night until we left Saira. And she has ancestors who've been in the family for long enough that it's possible that one of them was stolen back then, centuries ago."

Jongdae's eyes widen. "I… think you might be right."

Zitao positively beams when Joonmyun tells him. "That makes things easy, then! We don't have to look for anything else. You can just ride with someone else on the way back."

"We figured it out," Yifan sighs, sounding relieved. "It's almost over. I can go home."

"Yeah," Joonmyun says numbly, looking back at where Socks is drinking water from a bowl behind Yifan. Next to him, Jongdae leans in a little closer, so their arms press together a little, and Joonmyun presses back.

Before Joonmyun can go back into his tent for bed, Jongdae catches him by the wrist.

"Hey," he says. "Do you want to share a tent tonight? It's cold."

"It isn't any colder than usual," Joonmyun says. "Are you sure?"

Jongdae sighs. "Just come in." Once they're inside Jongdae's tent, he continues, "I wanted to talk to you. You just—you seemed upset."

"I'm not," Joonmyun says, feeling his shoulders tense. "Don't worry about it."

"Is it because of Socks?" Jongdae presses on. "I know you're really attached to her. I kinda am, too."

Joonmyun hesitates before he admits, "Maybe a little. But I'll get over it. She's just a horse, right? Replaceable."

Jongdae studies him for a moment, looking him in the eyes and frowning. "You don't mean that, do you." When Joonmyun looks away, he goes on, voice soft, careful, "You can tell me, you know."

"You don't need to do this if you don't want to," Joonmyun says. "I should be happy, I know. Like I said—I'll get over it."

"You don't need to just _get over it,_ " Jongdae insists. "You don't have to. But it's good to get it out sometimes, you know? I dunno, I thought—maybe it'd help you, I guess, but if you don't feel like it—"

"Well," Joonmyun says, "As long as you don't mind."

"I really don't."

"If you're sure," Joonmyun says slowly, and at Jongdae's nod, he begins. "I really shouldn't be upset, I think—we're so close to the end, and this is everything we've been searching for all this time, but I can't bring myself to celebrate like Yifan and Zitao are. Maybe it's just because I never thought I'd have to give anything up, at least nothing that mattered to me—money or something, maybe, objects I'd have to go on a quest for like the goblet, but not Socks. Not someone I didn't want to let go of. I should've expected it, and I _knew_ I'd lose something, but I guess I just didn't consider the idea that it would hurt." He's rambling. Repeating himself. Joonmyun takes a deep breath. He needs to stop. "It's for me and you, though, and probably all of my ancestors after me, and all of their future husbands and wives and families. I'm just being selfish. One sacrifice shouldn't be too much to ask of me. I'm Prince Joonmyun of Saira. This is my job."

"You're always thinking about other people before yourself," Jongdae says. "Why do you do that? Like this entire thing was for _me_ , so I wouldn't be stuck in a marriage I didn't ask for. You probably would've married anybody your parents told you to, as long as it was for the good of the kingdom, and you would've stuck with me as long as I didn't mind. You know I'm right. And you let Zitao come with us just because you knew it'd make Yifan happy, somewhere in his weird, tiny heart—" Joonmyun snorts at this. Yifan's heart is far from tiny. "—even when you knew nothing about him. So I think you deserve to be a little selfish, maybe. If giving up Socks is too much—"

"It's not," Joonmyun interrupts. "Really."

"I could get used to living in the palace," Jongdae says. "You don't have to do this."

"But I do," Joonmyun says.

"You _don't_ ," Jongdae insists, but Joonmyun shakes his head.

"It's fine, Jongdae. I'm going to do what I have to," Joonmyun says. He pushes himself up off the floor of the tent and turns to leave, but Jongdae stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait," he says. "I still meant it when I asked you to sleep here tonight. My blanket's too thin. I've been having trouble sleeping at night."

"Then I'll stay," Joonmyun decides, settling back down next to him, "as long as it helps you."

"And there it is again," says Jongdae, shaking his head, but there's a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips this time. "Putting my needs before yours. When do you ever do things for _you_ , Joonmyun?"

"Why should I?" Joonmyun says back. Jongdae starts to settle down for bed, and Joonmyun helps him set the blanket out. "Like I said, it's my duty. I wouldn't be a good prince if I only ever thought of myself."

"But you're not—" Jongdae starts, and then stops, pausing to look at Joonmyun for a few moments, as if searching for something Joonmyun doesn't know is there. "Never mind. It's late."

"We should sleep," Joonmyun agrees. "Good night, Jongdae."

"Good night."

Usually, it's easy to forget about the things he thinks about before he sleeps, as long as he can sleep at all, but even though Joonmyun's well-rested by the next morning, he can't stop thinking about what Jongdae said. _When do you ever do things for_ you, _Joonmyun?_ The words repeat themselves over and over in his head in an endless echo, and Joonmyun's stuck in a strange fog until they reach Saira again in the early afternoon. They're ahead of schedule.

"Hey, we have some extra time," Zitao says cheerfully. "Yifan! You should take me to the market. I haven't been there in _ages_. How long has it been since I last visited Saira?"

"Years," Yifan says. "Do you even have any money on you?"

"Nope," Zitao grins. "I never bring money with me anywhere, you know that. I always lose it anyway. But I'd be really happy, you know, if you bought me something, just one thing—"

"So we'll head to the palace now," Joonmyun interrupts. "We'll meet you back here soon."

Yifan gives Joonmyun directions to the palace, and, miraculously, he does not get lost in the maze of houses surrounding the main town area like he expects. They sneak back into Joonmyun's room through a passage coming back from the stables and start to turn the whole room upside-down.

Joonmyun doesn't have time to feel nostalgic (nostalgic? He hasn't even been gone a month) in the midst of it all, opening every drawer and checking every spot that lies in shadow to see if they can find the bags. But it seems like the longer they search, the farther away they are from finding them, even though Yifan said they were in Joonmyun's desk.

"Do you think he was wrong about where they were?" Jongdae says. He's slumped against the foot of Joonmyun's bed, sweaty bangs sticking to his face. Saira is always so warm in the spring. "We've looked everywhere in here. I don't think the bags are in this room at all, actually."

"Nowhere we can find, anyway," Joonmyun agrees, taking a seat next to him. If things had gone well, they would've been able to get out of here ages ago, but the sun's starting to drop lower in the sky already and what Joonmyun had thought would be an easy task now seems hopeless.

"What if," Jongdae suggests, "it's not the bags at all? What if you didn't keep them, after all?"

"You did say they didn't quite work as the solution," Joonmyun says. "Maybe you're right."

"Let's find Yifan and Zitao," Jongdae says. "We can talk about it with them and figure something out, maybe. We'll still make it. I know it."

"It probably wouldn't be good if we were found here anyway," Joonmyun says, nodding. "Let's go."

They make a stealthy escape through the stables and a few winding passages again, quietly tugging Socks and May back out of the stables—the last time for Socks, Joonmyun can't help but think—and head down to the market. This route, at least, Joonmyun knows. Jongdae's brought a square cloth from one of Joonmyun's clothes drawers to disguise him a bit, so no one will recognize him, even if having just the lower half of his face covered doesn't do much to hide him. In plainer clothes than he's used to wearing, though, Joonmyun goes unnoticed as they pass through the streets.

Zitao is sitting under the shade of a stall and eating a pastry with a satisfied smile when Joonmyun and Jongdae find him, Yifan by his side. 

"What took you so long, Yo—I mean, what took you so long?" Yifan asks. "I thought it was supposed to be a quick trip."

"We couldn't find the bags," Jongdae tells him. "We searched everywhere we could think of. There's nothing."

"Maybe your memory told you wrong," says Zitao. "Maybe it's something else."

"That's what we were thinking," Joonmyun says. "I don't know what else it could be, though."

"We could stay here for the night," Zitao suggests. "We were ahead of schedule anyway. If we spend the night here, we should still be able to make it if we figure it out and leave by noon tomorrow."

"I know the owner of an inn nearby," Yifan says. "We can stay there. And he won't say a word about you, trust me."

Joonmyun glances over at Jongdae for a moment, and at Jongdae's nod, he does the same. "It's best we leave now, then. It's getting dark."

"We'll figure this out," Jongdae says as they follow Yifan's lead, giving Joonmyun a reassuring smile. "We'll find a way."

"Yeah," Joonmyun says. They have to. "We will."

♚

True to Yifan's word, the innkeeper, Lu Han, hardly spares Joonmyun a glance when they arrive. Instead, he full-on tackles Yifan, talking to him so quickly Joonmyun can't even keep up. They spend a whole five minutes chatting, an incredible feat—Zitao is glaring daggers into the side of Lu Han's head, and Joonmyun can't help but admire Lu Han for holding up for so long. Zitao's expression looks downright _murderous_.

"Well, anyway," Lu Han says, casting Zitao a nervous glance and giving a strained laugh, "I'll show you to your room now. Sorry if there's… stuff in there… Haha. That was a joke. Yeah."

That, Joonmyun discovers when they open the door to his and Jongdae's room, was not a joke. The room is dusty and smells a little strange; inside, everything looks normal until Joonmyun looks down at the spot by the door and sees a scattering of what looks like droppings. They walk in to set their things down and find a few more spots like it around the room, and Joonmyun swears he sees something brown and furry dart across the room when he walks past the bed.

"And, uh, I'm sorry we had to fit you in two rooms. Busy weekend, you know! All booked up," Lu Han says, and leaves hastily. Joonmyun wants to ask him how this place could _possibly_ have regular customers, but this is Yifan's friend. That would be rude.

"I don't think I'm gonna be able to sleep tonight," Jongdae shudders, looking around the room. "Think there are bedbugs?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if there were," Joonmyun says grimly. "We may as well just sleep on the ground outside."

"Honestly, I'd prefer that," Jongdae says. "But anyway. We need to figure out what that last clue means by morning."

"Right," Joonmyun nods. "So it's something I've kept and won't forget. I can't think of anything I've been particularly sentimental about other than the bags, though."

"Nothing?" Jongdae says. "Talk to me about your childhood. Maybe that'll help you remember something!"

"Okay," Joonmyun says, thinking. "When I was little, I always used to try and steal the gloves from the box my mother kept them in, even though she told me time and time again that I couldn't wear them until I was older. I thought they were the coolest things ever, white and gold and so fancy, way better than my stupid plain blue ones. So eventually she started to humor me, sort of—she'd hide the box in a different place every week and I'd spend the whole week searching for it until I found it, even though the box was always locked and I could never get at the gloves inside anyway. It was sort of like a game, I guess, to keep me entertained, and it worked. Until I got a little older, at least.

"And when I was fifteen, after I met Yifan, I got to go out to the market for the first time. It was both the best and worst day I had up until that point, I think. I hadn't ever left the castle before that, so I was really excited to find myself surrounded by so many new things, but I guess I expected people to treat me the same way they did in the castle. Like a prince, but only in that they respected me. But it was so different from what I thought it'd be like—everyone backed away when I came close, apologized profusely if they bumped into me or brushed my arm by accident, and offered me everything I could possibly want for free even if I wanted to pay for it. They'd look at my gloves like they were something horrible, and then they'd whisper and stare when they thought I wasn't paying attention. It hurt. But I went back to the palace and all I could think of was the way it felt to be in the midst of a crowd or what it smelled like when I passed by the baker's stall, and all I ever wanted to do after that was go back."

"Wait," Jongdae says before Joonmyun can go on. "Did you buy anything that day?"

"Only things I used or ate, I think," Joonmyun says. "So nothing that could fit the clue."

Jongdae stares up at the ceiling for a moment and hums. "The gloves," he says suddenly, sitting up and looking at Joonmyun with bright eyes. "Your first gloves from when you were young. Did you keep them?"

"Not that I remember. And I forgot about them after a while, I think—I barely remember what they looked like."

"Your other gloves, then," Jongdae says. "Didn't you keep them on even after I held your hand? You were so sentimental about them. Where did you put them after you took them off?"

It takes Joonmyun a moment, but he remembers. "In one of the saddlebags. Do you think—"

"Yes," Jongdae says. "At least, it's my best guess."

"I can't think of anything better," Joonmyun says, a slow smile spreading across his face. He can feel the adrenaline kicking in, suddenly—he's itching to move, to leave, to finally get to the end of this. They have to go. "You're brilliant, Jongdae. Really."

"You flatter me," Jongdae says, mock-swooning and sighing dramatically. But his expression turns serious again after a moment. Now isn't the time to get distracted. "Let's give it a shot. I really think this could be it."

"Let's leave," Joonmyun says on impulse, "right now. We don't have much time to spare."

"Now?" Jongdae says. "What about Yifan and Zitao?"

"We can wake them up," Joonmyun says. "Or go without them if you want, but we should just go. Right now."

"If they don't wake up when we knock, we can just go, I guess," Jongdae says, shrugging. Then, he heads for the door, grinning. "Okay. Let's do this."

♚

Jongdae goes to check on Yifan and Zitao while Joonmyun goes to get the horses ready. He meets Joonmyun outside the inn, alone.

"They didn't wake up? Yifan's usually a pretty light sleeper," Joonmyun frowns.

"They were busy," Jongdae says simply. "I left a note."

"Busy?"

" _Busy_."

It takes him a moment before Jongdae's meaning registers. "Oh."

"Yeah. Let's just go."

Somehow, they manage to make their way through the streets of Saira and back to the gate they've been taking in and out of the kingdom. Saira's scarier at night—the streets are all shadows and dark alleyways, so quiet Joonmyun feels like something must be hiding behind them, ready to jump out and attack, even when he knows there isn't. And then they're out the gate, heading through the forest again, and it's far spookier at night than it had been that first spring day when they were leaving Saira, moonlight filtering through the trees and the leaves rustling when a soft breeze blows through. Jongdae's ahead of him, though, and when he turns back just to give Joonmyun a quick glance, Joonmyun can see his reassuring smile, even in the dark. And when the breeze passes through, ruffling Joonmyun's hair just a little bit, he catches that faint, familiar scent on the tips of it, fragrant and sweet. Spring.

It's easy to relax after that. They spend the early morning hours traveling quickly on a path that took them half a day the first time around, going at a leisurely pace—but they don't have time for that now. They're taking a four-day trip in three days' time, and rest, for them or their horses, will be a luxury.

They stop briefly throughout the day to let their horses rest and to take a couple of naps themselves, one at a time, but not for long—just enough so that they'll have enough energy to make it through another few hours on the move, and no more. There isn't time.

Two days left, Joonmyun thinks as he finally drifts off, too tired to let his what-ifs and hows and whys keep him up tonight. They've got two days. They're well on their way to Owan and if they keep going, maybe—just maybe—they'll make it.

♚

"It's today," Jongdae says gravely on the morning of their third day traveling again. "If we make it, it's gonna be today."

"Yeah," Joonmyun says. "I almost can't believe it. We're going to break the curse today. This is it."

"Let's get going," Jongdae says. "We're not too far from Owan. If we hurry today, we might make it in time."

"She said we had a week. So that means we have until this afternoon, right?"

"Right. And we should be in Owan by midday. So we'll get there."

Even Socks and May seem to feel that there's something important happening today. They go faster than they usually do without being told and don't rest for as long as they usually do, shuffling in place and watching Joonmyun and Jongdae intently until they get up to go again. They're even ahead of schedule when they arrive in Owan. Joonmyun's pretty sure it's not even noon. A short break for lunch, and then they're traveling again and Joonmyun's heart is pounding in his chest as they get closer and closer to the little house in the distance.

"You should stay here," he tells Jongdae, starting to lead Socks towards the door on shaky legs, "with May."

"Are you sure?" Jongdae frowns. "I can—"

"No," Joonmyun says firmly. "This… I think this is something I need to do on my own."

Jongdae nods, doesn't press further. "Do you have everything?"

Joonmyun does a mental check. Socks. The goblet, tucked safely in a saddlebag and wrapped carefully in a blanket. The gloves, clutched tightly in his other hand. "Yes."

The door, now back on its hinges, swings open the moment Joonmyun raises his hand to try the doorknob. There's no one behind it, though, so he leads Socks inside without a word, eyes darting around the house as he passes through.

"I have been expecting you," comes a voice, singsongy and too cheerful for Joonmyun when he's nervous like this. The living room. She's in the living room. "You are the first to make it in time. But I knew you would."

"I would never forgive myself if I didn't," Joonmyun says honestly, bowing as low as he can when he enters the room.

Aria is standing at the side of the room opposite to the door, tall and regal, with dark hair and eyes and clothes. Joonmyun keeps his eyes downcast like his parents always taught him to when meeting people more important than him. He's never had to do this before. He brings Socks in behind him, pulls the goblet out from a saddlebag, and carefully holds it so she can see but it won't touch his skin. His gloves are held in his left hand.

She takes a step closer, inspecting the three. "I am impressed."

"Thank you," Joonmyun says, bowing again, but Aria holds one finger up before he can say more.

"I have not finished speaking. There is something you should know," Aria says. "This curse is magically binding, yes. It forces you to marry the first to hold your hand, no matter what you do to try and stop it. But I do not try to tangle the strings of fate, and I do not change things that I have no authority to change. All the curse did was make sure things happened as they should have—so even if you believe everything that has happened was my fault, look at your situation more carefully. Things always turn out as they should, Kim Joonmyun, even if you have found the solution to my riddle, even if you break my curse. I hope you will remember that."

Aria strides forward so that she's facing Joonmyun, looking him straight in the eyes. One long moment, and then he feels something inside him shift, a lock that's finally found its key, and Aria steps back again and takes Socks's reins.

"Go," she says. "Do not forget what I have told you, and you will live your life well." She takes the goblet and gloves from his arms. And with one last glance at Socks, one last scratch behind her ear, just where she likes it, Joonmyun heads out the door at back outside, back to where Jongdae waits for him with wide and expectant eyes.

"I did it." Then, louder this time, Joonmyun says again, "I did it."

A huge smile spreads across Jongdae's face as he jumps down from May's back and all but tackles him, embracing him firmly even as Joonmyun staggers a bit under his weight.

"I knew you would," Jongdae says into his ear, still hugging him tightly, and then he pulls back just as Joonmyun starts to wish he wouldn't stop. He looks at Joonmyun for a moment, sobering a little. "Are you sad?"

"Maybe," Joonmyun says, "but I'll learn to move on."

"Would it be weird to say I'm proud of you?" Jongdae says, eyes warm and bright and sweet even though he's not smiling. Joonmyun just pulls him in close again, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of sweat and dirt and _Jongdae_ , and he holds him like he's afraid Jongdae'll disappear if he ever lets go.

"No," Joonmyun says, so softly he's not sure Jongdae can even hear. "Not at all."

♚

"I'm not your betrothed anymore," Jongdae says back in Owan. "So I guess that means I'm going home."

"I guess it does," Joonmyun agrees. There's something else lingering on the tip of his tongue, something he knows he won't say, and he doesn't meet Jongdae's eyes when he says, "Is this where we part ways?"

"You don't have any other way to get home," Jongdae starts, but Joonmyun shakes his head.

"I can find a way. May is yours. I'll buy another horse or something, so don't worry. I won't inconvenience you."

Jongdae's face falls, but only for an instant, and then it's gone, and his expression goes back to one of concern. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I—"

"Hey!" a man calls, drawing the attention of everyone in the square. "Does this horse belong to anyone here?"

Joonmyun turns, looking to see where the voice is coming from, and then he freezes. It can't be—

"Socks," Jongdae says, amazed. "How'd she get here? I thought—"

"Me too," Joonmyun says. And he doesn't even have to call for Socks—she dashes away from the man so fast her reins slip out of his hands, stopping in front of Joonmyun and breathing hard.

"She followed us all the way here, didn't she," Jongdae says, shaking his head. He gives Socks a fond smile. "You've got a damn amazing horse."

"I know I do," Joonmyun says. "And I guess I've got a way home now, too."

"So," Jongdae says. "This is it."

"Yeah. Thanks," Joonmyun mumbles, "for, well. Everything."

"You, too," Jongdae says, smiling and embracing Joonmyun for a moment, just a moment, so brief it could've just been his imagination, before he turns to leave.

Joonmyun watches him leave. He doesn't move until Jongdae is gone, so far away he's nothing more than a tiny speck in the distance.

♚

**EPILOGUE**

Joonmyun always comes to the market on the first day of spring.

Granted, it's only been two years since The Adventure, but this is something he plans on making a tradition. It's easy to lose himself in the hustle and bustle of a crowd, in the smell of baking bread and food being cooked in the stalls nearby, and that light, sweet scent that always lingers in the air in spring. Joonmyun'll never tell what the last one always reminds him of.

He's turning around to look at the toy booth, having just bought an orange, when he spots a familiar face and does a double take. He's about to move on—it _can't_ be, he looks so different, more mature now—when the man looks to his right and meets Joonmyun's eyes, and then Joonmyun knows. It's him.

"Long time no see," Jongdae grins when he's made his way over. His smile is just as bright as Joonmyun remembers, but it's tentative, a little awkward.

"It's good to see you," Joonmyun says. "Will you be here for long?"

"If things go well, permanently," Jongdae replies. "I found a job here. So I'm living with my cousin until I make enough to afford a house of my own."

"That's great," Joonmyun says. 

"Yifan's not with you?"

"Yifan doesn't work for the family anymore, actually," Joonmyun shrugs. "Moved away to the mountains with Zitao. He comes to visit all the time, though."

"Oh," Jongdae says. "I'm happy for them."

"Me, too."

A few uncomfortable moments pass in which neither of them knows exactly what to say, and then—an idea. Something silly, stupid, spontaneous, and Joonmyun feels dumb, but he decides to do it anyway.

"Why don't we start over?" he says, sticking out his hand. "Hi. I'm Kim Joonmyun."

"Kim Jongdae, formerly of Astra," Jongdae says, taking it. "It's nice to meet you."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you SO MUCH to ang and justin, the best betas ever, for putting up with me and reading over this time after time T____T i honestly couldn't have done it without you! i love you guys ;;
> 
> click [here](http://mixians.livejournal.com/1560.html) for a silly extra i wrote for this on a whim :3


End file.
